


Danse Macabre (with artwork)

by Spooks_on_Parade



Series: Let's Dance [3]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Anthology Series, Bacchanalia, Brotherly Love, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Dancing, F/M, Intoxication, Married Couple, Not Beta Read, Waltzing, fanfic with fanart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22466257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spooks_on_Parade/pseuds/Spooks_on_Parade
Summary: "First of all, there's not a single soul, living or dead, who can tempt me even a fraction of what you do to me." He leaned down and kissed her before straightening to smooth down his waistcoat. "And second, there's not a single soul who would ever be foolish enough to even try to dance with the King of the Dead."Persephone hummed as their lips made contact, enjoying the feel of it and left wanting by the brevity. "I dunno," she teased, her eyes following him across the room to where his grotesque mask and tailcoat waited for him. "I dance with the King of the Dead all the time. I quite enjoy it."
Relationships: Hades & Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hades/Persephone, Hades/Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Series: Let's Dance [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533734
Comments: 30
Kudos: 162





	Danse Macabre (with artwork)

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure, I'm not particularly happy with this fic. I only wrote it because I wanted to do the artwork.

"So why are you going if you hate it so much?" Persephone asked from her comfortable upside-down sprawl across the bed, watching her husband fiddle with his cravat in the full-length mirror.

Hades scowled at his reflection before cutting his eyes over to his wife. "Because somebody has to babysit Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum and I'm the responsible one. And because Zeus is making me," he grouched. "You're lucky you don't have to go. Nothing but a drunken orgy of overindulgent idiots."

"Who all is going to be there?" she asked, flopping over onto her belly. "Anyone we know?"

"No idea..." he said, pulling his long hair into a low ponytail. "Mortals. Demi-gods. Probably some nymphs and satyrs... Usually a few gods and goddesses show up, but everyone will be in costume. Anonymity is a big deal so no one gets turned into a cow... again. That's why I have to dress up in this stupid outfit."

"Well, if it's any consolation, I think you look very handsome. Even disguised as a mortal," she smirked, her gaze raking appreciatively over his long, lean body bedecked in more buttons and blue silk brocade than she had ever seen. "I'm not gonna hafta pull a Hera and bring down my wrath upon some poor mortal girl am I?"

He huffed, what could have been a laugh, through his nose and turned away from the mirror. "Of that, Sweetness, I can guarantee, you have nothing to fear."

"Oh, yeah?" She cocked an eyebrow and drew her bottom lip between her teeth as he approached her.

"Truly. First of all, there's not a single soul, living or dead, who can tempt me even a fraction of what you do to me." He leaned down and kissed her before straightening to smooth down his waistcoat. "And second, there's not a single soul who would ever be foolish enough to even try to dance with the King of the Dead."

Persephone hummed as their lips made contact, enjoying the feel of it and left wanting by the brevity. "I dunno," she teased, her eyes following him across the room to where his grotesque mask and tailcoat waited for him. "I dance with the King of the Dead all the time. I quite enjoy it."

He smirked at her over his shoulder as he shrugged into his coat, the stretch of his lips further sharpening the cut of his features. "Then, my love, you are as foolish as you are beautiful."

* * *

The Bacchanalia was even more obnoxious than he remembered it. Intoxication flowed through the masquerading crowd as freely as the wine from the bottles and Hades grumbled explicatives into his cup as he took in the provocative revelry from his place among the shadows. Even undercover, he had no desire to cavort with the mortals and nymphs and demi-gods any more than they wished to entertain his own company. He took another sip of his wine, feeling the buzz fizzle through his brain, but it didn't help his mood. Suddenly, a hard clap landed on his shoulder, causing him to choke, and a very inebriated Zeus leaned into him.

"Brother!" the mortal form of the god-king barked, the sickly smell of alcohol pouring off of him in waves. "Is this not a great party?!" He gestured around the room with a wide swing of his arm, sloshing his drink onto the marble floor.

Hades wrinkled his nose in disgust. He would rather be at home, in bed, with his wife, and without the burn of wine in his sinuses. "Why exactly did you need me here again?"

"Because you're boring. You need to live a little! Cut loose! Go wild! Have some fun for once!" Zeus slurred, his mask clacking against his brother's in his nearness.

"I do have fun."

"No-no, I mean real fun! Look at Poseidon over there! Lounging in a heap of pillows and bodies. Gorgeous women feeding him..." he squinted, "is that savillium? I'll be right back!"

Hades just sighed as his brother stumbled off to chase his sweet tooth. He knew he wouldn't be coming back and, quite frankly, didn't care. He continued to watch, a portrait of indifference, as masses of humans and ageless creatures frolicked around in their monstrous costumes of snarling faces and twisted horns and snubbed noses. Dancing and laughing and conjugating. Oblivious to whom or what they were engaging with. Hidden in the open just as he was hidden in the darkness. Practically invisible. Unseen.

* * *

The time had to be approaching midnight — they had been there for hours already — and yet the debauchery had persisted; escalated even. There were still dancers spinning drunkenly around the dance floor and many more decadent piles of bodies in various states of undress scattered around on pillow tops. Zeus had disappeared from the festivities about an hour ago and Poseidon, completely sated on cakes, wine, and sex, had eventually fallen asleep in the basin of a large water fountain. Hades, having switched from heavy wine to a less potent posca, remained the ever-observant, if not somewhat tipsy, wallflower. He was tired though. And uncomfortable. His opulent tuxedo was just as pristine as it had been when he arrived, a testament to his rigid posture, and he was pretty sure his face would be permanently formed to resemble that of the hook-nosed Capitano mask he wore. He wanted to go home.

He scanned over the crowd once more when he caught sight of someone standing barely inside his periphery. His gaze drifted over to the mysterious figure. It was a woman — small, curvy, and dark-skinned, several shades darker than his own mortal flesh, dressed in a lavish ballgown that shimmered like a cotton candy nebula. His eyes locked onto hers and he felt his breath hitch in his chest, which was very alarming. He could see the signs of her smile light up beneath her mask as she returned his stare. It was almost like she was challenging him and his eyebrow hitched in response. 

The unknown woman seemed to giggle at him, the slight movement drawing his attention down to the balcony of her substantially brimming décolletage. He blushed and quickly darted his gaze back to hers, but she had noticed his blatant wandering. With a crooked finger and smug regard, she summoned him.

Hades was at a loss. In centuries upon centuries of parties, not once had anyone sought him out, aside from his own family. He had no interest in accepting her invitation, regardless of how... alluring she was. He was a happily married man and Fates be damned if he should ever take his wife for granted. Though, he supposed, it would be rude to ignore the woman now after she had already caught him accidentally ogling her. At the very least he should apologize. His mind made up, he steeled his resolve to beg her pardon and redirect her unusual fascination as politely as possible then skulk back to his dark corner.

Dragging himself from the shadows, he cleared his throat as he purposefully strode over to her. "Miss, my sincerest apologies. I didn't mean to be so—"

"Dance with me?" she interrupted him. Well she certainly didn't beat around the bush, did she? And, it seemed, was rather audacious.

His lips pursed into a perturbed frown. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline. You see I'm actually—"

"Afraid?" She grinned as he bristled. "I've been watching you for quite a while now and you seem terrified to leave your little hiding place."

"Look, all I wanted was to apologize for staring. You have no right to—"

"A gentleman would make it up to me by accepting my request for a dance," she insisted, her eyelashes fluttering up at him, causing his heart to flutter as well.

"Why me? There are plenty of others to dance with," he grumped, annoyed with her and himself and the whole situation. He didn't like it, but he found his resolve slipping just the same. "Why ask the one guy who clearly wants to be left alone?"

"Because," the strange woman's tone softened to a breathy purr, "I've recently been told I am foolish."

He paused then and looked deep into her hooded eyes, beyond the mask hiding her face, and a surge of want flooded his veins. They both knew in that moment that he was going to say yes. "One dance," he agreed as he stepped into her orbit, a large hand settling perfectly at her waist, the other behind his own back, "then I would really like for you to leave. Not that you can't take care of yourself, but if something were to happen to you..."

"One dance with you is all I came for," she assented, repeating his movement with one arm crossing over his abdomen, her other hand taking hold of her voluminous skirt. "My mysterious stranger."

He smirked, immediately sweeping her into a dizzied waltz. Together they sailed across the room to the center of the dance floor, circling each other like vultures ready to feast. Their heated eyes devoured each other, not once breaking contact until he smoothly whisked her into a graceful twirl before drawing her back in. Hands clasped and hardly a breath between them, they never lost their stride. Haunting faces swirled around them like a tornadic nightmare as an audience gathered to watch, but they only saw each other.

Hades bowed slightly so he could speak to his unsolicited dance partner over the trill of the music as they moved. "Are you enjoying your dance with the King of the Dead?" his voice rumbled, low and unexpectedly husky, in her ear.

A shiver of lust arced up her spine. "I am very much." She smiled at him, the promise of something more hidden behind her teeth. "But as I've said before, I always do."

"Indeed," he growled playfully before sealing his lips over hers in a ravenous kiss. She had no sooner responded to his hunger, than he cast her into another elegant pirouette, this time catching her from behind. 

"Scoundrel," she hissed wantonly as he pulled her to his side, their seductive waltz unwavering.

He chuckled. "What better place to be a scoundrel than a party designed for it? We could really give them a show if your skirts weren't so poofy." He directed her forearm to press against the arousal straining beneath the front of his trousers.

"As thrilling as that sounds," she cooed, "I would much rather not share you." She felt the vibrations of his hummed agreement along her heated skin. "Will I be seeing you later tonight?" she asked, turning once again to face him as their dance slowed to an eventual stop.

"I wish I could answer that," he lamented, leaning into her palm as her hand cupped his jaw, "but until the other two are ready I'm afraid I'm stuck here."

"Zeus is passed out," she said, as a matter of fact, her eyes betraying a glimmer of hope.

"What?"

"Yeah, he's out in the garden, head tucked under his wing," Persephone gestured with a tilt of her head. "Pretty sure it's him. I've never seen another purple swan."

"Well, fuck, let's get the hell out of here." Hades planted a kiss to her wrist. "You go get bird boy and I'll grab Poseidon. We can dump them in a guest room. I don't even care. Let's just go home." He kissed her again before hurrying to collect his brother from the fountain.

"Hey!" she called after him, not surprised by his haste, but still unprepared for it. 

He turned back, already several paces away, and waited for her to continue. 

"If you get home before me," her voice curled with so much intent, "keep the mask on... I'm not finished with you, mysterious stranger." With that cryptic demand, she spun on her heel and flounced off in the direction of the garden, leaving her husband behind with a searing anticipation.


End file.
